


jonmartin flavored la croix

by americangothic



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Incorporeality, M/M, Magnetic Poetry, The Lonely - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 12:47:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20447393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americangothic/pseuds/americangothic
Summary: Jon realized she had been explaining how he was plaguing the fridge poetry with his Leitner-induced ghostliness and resolved to pay more attention.“That’s kind of far-fetched, even for us,” Basira piped up. “I don’t think there’s some kind of evil poetry entity at work here.”





	jonmartin flavored la croix

**Author's Note:**

> thank u to noah lamellas from the cowards discord for the prompt. one of my only skills is taking crack seriously and i am sorry about it

One day, at about two in the afternoon, Jon noticed something on the fridge.

He was taking his lunch out (because contrary to popular belief, Jon _ did _ eat sometimes) and his fingers caught on the odd texture of the fridge. He closed the door and frowned down at the… words? The words stuck to the door. Setting his bag to the side, he peeled one of them off and frowns at it. 

“Horse,” Jon read off it, more than a little confused. All of the remaining magnets- and there were many- had similar one-word statements, like _ eternity _ or _ needle _ or _ friend _. He stared at the door, perplexed.

“Amen to that,” Tim said. Jon jumped, struck by the realization that he’d forgotten someone else was in the kitchen, and scowled. He stuck the horse magnet back onto the fridge and scooped up his bag.

“Do you know who put these here?” Jon asked, trying to keep his voice light-hearted. For once, he was trying to be the “fun and cool boss” instead of the “uptight snotty boss” he usually projected, but _ honestly _. “Martin can bring his things into work if he wants, I suppose, but surely he has something better to do than-”

“I brought ‘em in, boss,” Tim offered. “You can take them down if you want, but I figured they’d get better mileage here. At home, they just sit on my door unused. Sad life for magnetic poetry to lead, I’d figure.”

Jon’s nose wrinkled. He knew there was no use in spending the energy to take all of them down if it was just some more of Tim’s office humor. He resigned himself to seeing the hodgepodge of words every time he passed through the kitchen and sighed.

* * *

It’s a Leitner, because of course it’s a Leitner. It’s always a Leitner. How could Jon ever think it would be anything but a Leitner. He yelped and set the Leitner down. It continued to be a Leitner.

Looking around, everything seemed fine. Jon was in his chair. He had all of his limbs. Nothing was on fire, or a clown, or full of dirt, or had an excess of teeth, or a spider, or a manipulative Insititute official, or his own descent into monsterhood. Those were about 80% of the bad situations Jon had been in at that point, so he wasn’t that alarmed. 

Jon got up and left his office to bring the book to Archival Storage, or to ask someone else to. Surprisingly, he was ignored by both Basira and Daisy as he headed down with the Leitner. Less surprisingly, Jon was ignored by the person at the desk until he set the book down on the counter. Most of the time these days, Institute staff would either give him unsettled glances out of the corner of their eyes or staunchly pretend he wasn’t there, which Jon could hardly fault them for. Still, it was a bit startling when the man frowned and looked down at the book, then around the room like he couldn’t see who’d brought it in and placed it on his desk. Jon helpfully flipped the front cover open to show the Leitner bookplate. The guy yelped.

Jon’s day just got stranger from there. He went back to the Archives and wandered around the main area for a bit, still unnoticed by Daisy and Basira, before eventually heading over to the kitchen. Melanie was sitting cross-legged in there frowning at the magnetic poetry on the fridge.

“Hello, Melanie,” Jon said, carefully trying to see if she was having A Day or not. She ignored him as well, and Jon sighed. He sat down next to her and watched as she rearranged the words into what looked like a bit of poetry.

At some point in her employed-unemployment, Melanie had decided she was going to create an epic narrative on the Archive kitchen fridge. Jon didn’t actually think this was the best thing she could be doing with her time, but he didn’t have any say in the matter, as he was both her current-former-boss and ex-surgeon and she’d promise to file a restraining order against both of those people if he tried to be a dick. Anyway, Melanie was making a poem and resolutely ignoring Jon. 

“You know what? I think that Leitner made me… a ghost, or something. Or at least, something that nobody can see. Like the Lonely.” No response.

“...I guess it’s fair. I wonder if I could- and I’m not saying that I want to find out- if I could make someone give me their statement in this state?” Again, no response.

Jon hummed. After a few moments, he reached out to the fridge and idly began rearranging the words. He didn’t have any particular pattern in mind- just words that caught his eye. _ Apparatus _ , _ forest _ , _ prairie _ , _ watch _. 

He realized with a jolt that Melanie had frozen and was staring at his sentence. “Melanie?” he asked. “Can you see my hand?” 

She tugged _ vampire _ off of its spot on the door and set it back in her poem, frowning. Then she got up and poked her head out the door. “Hey, do either of you know if this magnetic poetry is cursed? It’s moving on its own, which I’d say qualifies as cursed behavior,” she called. Daisy yelled back something Jon couldn’t make out, followed by footsteps heading towards them. Jon got up, anticipating that there was going to be a sudden influx of people in the kitchen (and by that he meant two more people than there already were).

Sure enough, Daisy entered, followed by Basira. They all crowded in and stared at the fridge door. This, of course, meant that Jon couldn’t reach the magnets. 

“These ones, they were moving from random places and being put in this one,” Melanie continued. Jon realized she had been explaining how he was plaguing the fridge poetry with his Leitner-induced ghostliness and resolved to pay more attention. 

“That’s kind of far-fetched, even for us,” Basira piped up. “I don’t think there’s some kind of evil poetry entity at work here.”

“What else would it be, then?”

“She has a point,” Daisy said as Jon managed to worm his hand in between his colleagues’ shoulders and move four words. _ I am traped _ , he spelled slowly (they didn’t have a trapped but they did have a _ trap _ and an _ ed _, because it had been a cheap set and Tim had mixed three of them and they’d lost quite a few). 

All four of them paused. 

“Okay, you saw that, right?” Melanie said. “That’s definite proof right there.” 

Basira nodded, perhaps a bit reluctantly, and narrowed her eyes. “Still doesn’t make sense, though.” Melanie shrugged as if to say _ we literally work at a place that is a shrine to an otherworldly fear god _ . Basira wrinkled her nose as if to say _ fair point _ . Daisy wiggled her eyebrows as if to say _ we don’t actually know what it is, though _.

Jon, who had missed this entire conversation because he’d been searching for the right words, found something that would work well enough and spelled out _ storytelling vision man is a ghost _. 

“Christ, Jon,” Basira said. The others more or less shared the sentiment. Jon sighed. “What did you do this time?”

Jon figured _ magic book _ was close enough to Leitner for them to understand what he meant. _ Researching alone _ was a little less unclear, because they spent a little bit discussing whether Jon was researching the Lonely or if he was alone and something happened- _ both _ , he added. They’d just gotten around to discussing _ get I out _ when Martin walked in.

Jon turned and watched Martin traverse the edges of the room like he wasn’t even there. He didn’t pay attention to what was happening at the fridge, or any of them. 

“Martin,” Jon choked out, knowing he couldn’t hear him. Whatever the Leitner had done to him, it had cut him off and left him a world away from everyone else. He could see- could even touch some things- but couldn’t be seen. Oh, the irony.

Jon’s rumination was ruined by the fact that upon hearing his name, Martin startled and dropped his tea mug. It hit the counter with a clatter and both he and Jon winced.

“Why can you see me?” Martin asked. Jon blinked. “I- wait, why are you in the- this part of the Lonely?”

“Oh,” Jon remarked eloquently. “_ That’s _ what this is.” 

Martin sighed. “Did Peter send you here?” he asked, setting his tea mug upright. 

Jon shook his head. “No,” he said. “No, I just… There was… God, Martin, it’s good to see you.”

“Look, Jon, if this is some desperate ploy to get my attention-”

“No! Christ, no, sorry. There was a Leitner, and I was researching the- ah, looking into a statement, and… sorry.” Jon sighed. He was staring resolutely at the fridge, the walls, the counters- anywhere but Martin. Martin was making himself a cup of tea. 

With a start, Jon realized he hadn’t written anything on the fridge in a few minutes. Hurriedly, he put together _friend alone man_ _here_. Basira laughed, short and cut off. 

“I figured,” she said. Jon frowned at her, trying to figure out what exactly she meant by that, before sighing and turning back to Martin, who was leaning against the far wall and sipping his tea. Jon blinked. He’d expected Martin to be gone by now, if he was being honest with himself. 

“I’m assuming you want to go back,” Martin said quietly. 

“I w- Yes. Yes, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Martin made his way (all three steps of it) over to Jon, and Jon choked back a _ stay safe _ in his throat as he put a hand on Jon’s shoulder. He barely had enough time to blink before he was back in the real world- assumedly. Martin had disappeared, and everything sounded a little more vibrant in a way that it hadn’t before.

“You alright?” Basira asked, and Jon started. He hadn’t realized they had fallen quiet behind him- Melanie wasn’t even in the room anymore, come to think of it. 

“...I think so,” Jon murmured. On the fridge, a single word had been shifted. Not that far, but far enough to be noticed by someone who’d been using it to communicate for the past half hour. 

_ trust _

**Author's Note:**

> *listens to get lonely by the mountain goats on repeat* im not sad about jonmartin. im not sad about jonmartin. im n
> 
> anyway my tumblr is @autisticjon and it would've taken significantly less time to write this fic if i hadn't spelled everything out on my own magnetic poetry door but sometimes ya gotta do what ya gotta do

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [one of me and none of you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20473304) by [sandpapersnowman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandpapersnowman/pseuds/sandpapersnowman)


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